Reservations are ALWAYS appreciated!

Tonight was one of those nights when I wonder why I became a waitress.

We got slammed.

I know some people think that waitresses like to be insanely busy, but I'm not one of them.

I was one of three waitresses scheduled for the evening and we had a total of one couple on our reservation list. Now, you may ask, why were three waitresses scheduled. Because, we had a total of forty people staying at the inn and about fifteen of them were golfers. Generally the golfers eat in the dining room because they can get drunk, and then WALK, not DRIVE to our bar, where they can drink even more and play poker until bedtime. The rest of the guests sometimes eat in the dining room or go elsewhere but we would love it if they would make reservations.

However, no one cares what we love!

In addition to our one couple and fifteen golfers, we ended up with tons of walk ins and everyone came in at the same time.

I drew the short straw when two women (I hate waiting on women!!!) came in and immediately started that head craning thing where they constantly look around like maybe you forgot them. They have no idea how lucky they were because their food and drinks came out in a very reasonable time frame.

At one point the younger of the duo said in an incredibly snotty tone, "Don't they realize that there are people in the dining room?"

I thought she meant that the food wasn't coming out fast enough, and I hate to say that I was a little testy with her because I said, "We had one reservation for two tonight and the kitchen is doing the best they can."

Her reply was, "I'm talking about those men!" She was referring to the golfers. Apparently they were too loud and having a little too much fun for her.

I told her that they were staying at the inn, had been drinking all day, were having a good time, (gee, maybe she should try to lighten up) and did she want me to tell them to quiet down?

"Well!" she sniffed, and then told me that it was up to me.

C'mon! It's a huge dining room, every one's having a nice evening and maybe she needs to get a life, or go spend her evening at the library!!!!

I didn't say anything to the golfers because, # 1: this is their 38th year of coming to the inn and I think they have seniority over Little Miss Stuffed Shirt, and # 2: I know that most of them are hard of hearing and telling them to be quiet would be an insult.

Things didn't get any better when our salad boy/sou chef quit after the owner told him that he should have had salads made ahead of time. He didn't go quietly either, he screamed and swore, and called the owner vile names that even our drunk and deaf golfers could hear.

Then the owners, who went and picked tonight to eat in the dining room, noticed that the food really wasn't coming out in a timely manner, and questioned the two chefs who were on duty.

The next thing I knew; we three waitresses were blamed for the problem. Apparently we were chatting with each other and having a high old time. We were also spending way too much time giggling and cavorting with the salad boy/sou chef, who by the way was a very sullen and slightly scary young man who didn't have a conversational bone in his body! The only chatting I saw was when one of the waitresses went back to help him and ended up making some of her own salads!

Too much time was then spent, rehashing the night, laying blame, and worrying about whether our salad boy/sou chef was going to make an unwelcome return.

It was just a busy night folks, so let's get over it.

It's nights like these that (in the words of Ernest T. Bass), I want to 'hermatize' myself.